


Remembrance

by jobysheepie



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jobysheepie/pseuds/jobysheepie
Summary: He could not recall how he arrived in this valley - he just belonged to it. Awoke there with no knowledge other than that he was not one of the mundane. Having lived through years of mourning an unknown history, of understanding many things without knowing why, of guarding a valley that already had guardians, of living but never changing on the outside nor inside, ever since that day, he continues his routine. Years of nothing, until there was something new.All she could recall was seeing things that did not, -could- not, exist. Having lived through years of her own perceived insanity, years of pretending and hoping to be mundane, yet filled with a sense of constant longing for something she couldn't grasp. One day, she packs a backpack with valuables and leaves for her Granddad's old farm. Little did she know that what Stardew Valley would offer her was not quite the mundane life she imagined it to be. Nor did Rasmodius know that his routine would not remain mundane much longer.
Relationships: Wizard | M. Rasmodius/Female Player
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Hum

**Preface**

Anyone reading this, thank you! This is my first foray back into fanfiction writing in... probably ten years. 

I have no beta-reader and am rusty, so I hope to get more comfortable writing again as soon as possible.

The wonderful stories here on AO3 and the Romancable Rasmodius PC mod are responsible for my fall back into the habit <3

In this work of fiction, I took (quite) some liberties with Ras' character and appearance. I imagine him more like some of the alternative skins on the mod hubs, but he will be described properly through the main character's eyes a lot later. Such are the joys of author freedom, haha!

Love,

Joby

* * *

* * *

It was five P.M. sharp. The bus door shut quietly before driving on into the distance. Anne squinted at the disappearing figure, gathering courage to take the first steps towards her new home. Who would be welcoming her? Would she be welcome? After this rather impulsive foray into the unknown, she understandably felt some anxiety. Turning away from the road, away from the sun that was beginning to set, she heard footsteps on dirt nearby. Quickly, she straightened up as much as she could with the heavy backpack on her shoulders.

  
"Ah, you must be the new farmer!" a middle-aged man called out with a friendly wave, a red-headed woman in tow. Anne smiled back politely. She tried to remember from her Granddads' picture album. 

  
"Mr. Lewis?" she asked. He looked pleased at her recognition.

  
"It looks like you had a safe trip, I'm glad. The bus doesn't take this route often anymore, so I often worry the driver would get lost!" he laughed, then gestured towards the tall woman, who energetically greeted the blonde newcomer.

"I'm Robin, the local carpenter!" she said. "I've come to show you your new place. And perhaps discuss some renovations-" she continued, before a side glance from Lewis stopped her. She laughed sheepishly. "You must be tired, should not be standing - and the sun is setting, so let's get you all set up!"

"Thank you" Anne grinned, liking her energy. Both of them seemed like warm people. "Is the house that way?" she asked, tilting her head towards the right, a path that dove into what seemed like a forest.

They started down the road to her new home. Now past the initial tenseness of new meetings and experiences, Anne felt her ears adjust. In the city, she had learned to filter out the background hum of human and machine activity, but here, she had to focus to hear anything at all. First, it was the birds, chattering away softly as they prepared for the night. Then, the gentle splashing noises of nearby water. A spring breeze ruffled her curls, and it smelled like blooming flowers. Sighing happily, she began to think that indeed, this had not been a mistake at all. It was as if she could feel a warm hum in the air, soothing her very soul. This, indeed, had not been a mistake, it could not be, she felt.

* * *

  
  
The wizard abrubtly stood from his chair, a glass on the table clattering from the motion as it almost fell over, but managed to regain balance. A frown on his face, dark eyes peered towards and searched for something. He felt something, something he had not in a long time. Some pull, some surge of activity. As the so-called protector of this valley, he felt some instinct to be wary of such energies. But the feeling faded down to a hum and he began questioning if he had just not been sleeping too little lately. He allowed a small sigh and sat down again, reaching back to tie his violet hair back into a low ponytail, although most of it still spilled out from his unfortunately self-performed hair dressing. The table was low, and he had to hunch over it a bit to write properly, but this was a posture he was used to at this point.

  
" _Regular activity of the forest spirits, no concrete contact made yet_ -" he began writing with his quill on parchment, the scratching noise and smooth feeling of ink on paper easing his concern a bit. Even though he had been appointed to this place - he needed not spend all of his energy on paranoia, Rasmodius decided. Yet, his hands itched to write his observation, almost like a bad habit. Even though he had planned to prepare food at this point, he frowned slightly. " _Sporadic surge of energy, of which I could not pinpoint the nature nor location. More research is required_." he penned down before cleaning away his writing supplies and setting the book apart to dry.

  
Later that day, he took a few moments to step out of his door, a rare occurrence. Atop his hill, the sunset had coloured the sky a myriad of pastel red, yellows and pinks. The air was rife with energy, as Spring would have it. For a moment, he closed his eyes and felt more at peace than he had been in a long time. Even in these few last moments of sunlight, the solar essence crystal pinning his cloak closed glowed as it absorbed the light, spreading a warming comforting feeling through his chest. He really should go outside more, rather than just leaving the crystal outside on sunny days, he thought to himself. Although he had had that thought many times before, but just felt wrong being even just a bit closer to the Pelican Town inhabitants. A guardian need and should not involve themselves with the guarded. His irises tinged blue for a moment before he put the thought away, turning with a swish of his black cloak to return inside. The door creaked closed behind him, as he closed it with a gesture of his hand and a hint of his power.  
  


* * *

  
Drenched in sweat, Anne let herself fall backwards onto a rather overgrown patch of grass. Huffing, she laid the scythe down next to her. Although she had been physically fit in comparison to many other city folk, this type of labor was a whole different story. She couldn't even imagine the additional work and responsibilties that would come from raising animals, which her kind neighbor Marnie had recommended with more enthusiasm in her voice than Anne had ever heard someone describe chickens. Staring up at the blue sky dotted with clouds, she wished she could lie down for longer. Having decided to focus her first few days on getting the farm in working condition, the steady amount of work set her mind to ease, but it was physically demanding.  
In the city, she had always felt unfortunately different. And in a novel that would likely be a good and interesting thing, but she just wanted to have a normal life and fit in. Unfortunately, that ship had sailed in childhood already. When kids are young, many often believe in ghosts. But she kept believing - because she could see.. _things_. Often just movements, hints of voices, just enough to make her feel that she was going crazy and imagining it. Online, she connected it to symptoms of stress, but no amount of relaxation could counteract the pressure of a higher level office job and a boss that could just not stop pushing for more. Closing her eyes with a sigh at the memory, she pushed it away. Back then, she had tried to push away whatever strange phenomenon was occuring. But, unfortunately, that pushing away required focus. Focus that made the problem worse.

She began to feel a sinking feeling in her stomach, minutes before the manager would come in to yell at someone. She would get headaches from squinting and frowning when around a certain colleague - it seemed like his shadow was blurring and doubling as if a light was illumating him from various sources. Later she heard through the grapevine that he had lost a loved one exactly that day. She had to avoid that colleague for a long time afterwards, as just looking at him felt like she was intruding on him, even if she didn't want to believe she was seeing the dead. Obviously, she had thought, something was wrong with her, and perhaps for someone like her questioning her sanity, returning to a more rural life for at least a while was a good idea.  
But she had to admit - here, she could feel and see _things_ too. She pushed the feeling away, but here it felt pleasant and warm. The first morning here, and in this beautiful weather once more, she could hear the sounds and see the movement of small blurry figures dancing across her property. For a few moments, she endulged herself, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to listen, far, far away into the distance.

Birds, water, chattering in the Stardrop Saloon that she had yet to visit but had heard about. Echoes deep underground of something unknown. The noise surrounded her like a hum, and she let her mind sink into the sensation before she was shook greatly by an abrupt sound of glass clattering on wood.

* * *

  
Out of habit, he checked his mail box every morning. But no one ever sent him mail, he knew this, yet something compelled him to keep trying. He peered out over the Cindersap forest, that seemed small from his vantage point. Nothing ominous had happened here in the years he remembered being here, but the same compulsion that had him check his mail had him retain a sense of caution, and he never skipped scanning the valley in the morning. He raised one hand, focused, and snapped his fingers together. Instantly, it was like he was the wave of sound coming from that motion, and just for a bit, he could see, hear, everything on its path, fading as it traveled. The regular valley, the regular trees, the regular inhabitants, the critters playing in the trees. All so very regular.  
Yet something was still off. But he couldn't pinpoint it, _again_. It was like a tug on his mind, as if he was about to figure out a word that had escaped him, like a dream actively being forgotten. Folding his arms and leaning his chin on his hand, he thought, pondered the sensation. But he was good at thinking, and it had not helped him here. Were he a regular inhabitant of the valley, perhaps he would consider asking the 'neighbors' about anything 'new'. Although they would likely not interpret that question as he did. And thus he let go of that thought and returned inside.

His eyes fell upon the large black cauldron taking up space in his living room. Light from the small window illuminated how dusty the metal vessel was. He wondered why it was here, what he would use it for. Was he expected to become a potion maker? He scoffed, before he found himself frustrated at his own confusion again. There were too many things that he did not know.   
He needed to medidate, and he needed to prepare himself for his weekly communal with the Junimo. And if there was something the tiny spirits did not appreciate, it was, well, any negative emotion. Lowering himself to the ground, he sat on a pillow on the magic circle carved into the oak floorboards, calmed his breathing and closed his eyes.

* * *

The next days passed quickly for her. From the unnaturally-rapidly growing crops in this valley (four days, really?) to the sheer amount of people living in this remote area that she still had to meet, it was overwhelming, albeit entertaining. After the experience with her hearing the other day, she had not tried that any more. Unfortunately for her, though, she still could see the jittery tiny green orbs in her peripheral vision on her farm. 

After passing by Pierre's and having a short chat with his purple-haired daughter who asked her if her hair was dyed, leading to a conversation on her hair woes, she decided to take a new route home. Some hours of sunlight remained for the day, and as she started up the stone stairs towards the more mountainous area of town, she felt a shiver send goosebumps to the base of her neck. Reaching a tan hand back to check for insects and finding nothing, she felt a slight sense of dread. Something unfortunately strange. again.  
In front of a dilapidated mansion-like building, she eyed Mayor Lewis, who looked rather either shaken or majorly disturbed. He seemed relieved to see her.   
"Anne! You have rodents on your farm, right?" he started, not really waiting for an answer. "The old community center is no longer used, but I swear I just saw movement in there. Would you help an old man out and scare whatever it is away?" he asked, still glancing towards the door, creaked open. First of all, I wouldn't call you an old man, she thought to herself, before cursing her inability to say no and nodding. 

  
"If it's any type of large infestation, you will need an exterminator, though, but I'll take a look" she said pointedly, though with a polite smile.  
"Then, that's settled! Thank you, I'll be sure to come by and bring you something for your efforts later." he said, a smile of relief on his face, crow's feet at the corners of his eyes as he set a brisk pace back towards town. 

  
"Those accursed friendly smiles" she sighed, turning towards the now rather frightening-looking building. Abandoned buildings were rare in Zuzu, and even if you found them, they tended to be inhabited by people you preferably did not meet in the dark, alone. She shivered. But here, up until now, nothing had been like Zuzu, and it was still light out. So she decided on at least an act of bravery and opened the door.

  
Inside, all she saw was a black void - as if the doorway was just painted onto the wall. Swallowing thickly, she briskly stepped inside and instantly was hit with a sensation similar to hitting a body of water. Throwing her off balance, she tumbled onto dusty planks inside, and was instantly hit with the scent of plants and moist earth. The darkness seemed to fade as small orbs of light danced in the air, illuminating the room with a warm glow.

  
Click - the door closed behind her without her doing so, and she jumped, clambering to her feet to try to open it again. It did not. Not only did it not close, she was repelled by some kind of force and sent stumbling back again, falling onto her behind with an echoing thud. Inside, except for the orbs and wat seemed like a tiny.. hut? She couldn't see any animals, or insects, or the likes of what Lewis had mentioned. Although she did see likely trouble coming. Laughing a frustrated laugh that echoed in the room, she closed her eyes and sat down, the floorboards creaking under her. Perhaps what this was would just let her go, perhaps she was dreaming this and would wake up soon.  
" ... ! . .. !" undecipherable noises reached her ears, and she felt a slight tug at the sleeve of her jacket. Jolting at this, she mumbled to herself. "Please wake me up now, brain, please-"   
Looking down at her left arm, a tiny green blurry shape touched to her hand. And suddenly, as if she had been trying to see the pebbles on the bottom of a whitewater river that now had calmed, her vision cleared. She realised that she was surrounded by tiny, apple-shaped creatures dancing on little legs that looked like twigs, something that definitely would not be out of place in a children's novel.

  
"... !! ... !!!" she still couldn't understand what it was saying, but it sounded a lot friendlier now she could see the objectively non-threathening looking source of the chatter. Carefully, she leaned closer to observe. Beady eyes stared back at her as it continued bouncing in place, seemingly bursting with energy. For a few moments, they just stared. And then, the little creature seemed to realise that she could see it, and with a squeal it ran off into a darker corridor in the back, faint pitter-patter fading as it went.  
Anne couldn't help but follow. An excitement bubbled up in her, one that she had felt on her first day here, but also reminded her of when she was younger and was still delighted about the supernatural things she saw. 

  
In the back, in the middle of a dark room around the corner, it was as if a faint spotlight was shining upon a golden plaque. Feeling a bit vulnerable entering the large room, she shuffled closer, seeing the small spirits dart off as she dared herself to touch her hand to the plaque.  
When she touched it, a feeling like static jolted her, and she pulled her hand back quickly. Inscribed rune-like words, whose meaning escaped her, featured prominently, highlighted by angle of the spotlight light. Her hand still tingled as she faintly heard a distant clicking of the door reopening itself.   
Reluctant for a moment, she stared at the plaque before realising she had been allowed to leave, and perhaps she should.

* * *

  
A crystal bottle of squid ink went rolling across the table, as an electric sensation jolted through the Wizard's arm, originating from the ring on his right hand. Rather than feel an understandable sense of dismay at the amount of glass objects he was knocking over lately, he ripped off the ring, resisted the urge to chuck it far away from his person, took a deep breath and placed it on the table with a clink and as much composure as he could muster. Once, he had placed wards on various objects of elemental and spiritual relevance in this valley. All they had to do was warn him of any human contact with said object. Since most inhabitants of the valley had little to no ability on the spirit front, he had managed to forget what the ring even was for, wearing it out of habit. That was how little generally happenened here.

  
Slowly lowering himself to his chair, he found himself staring at the ring for answers, although he knew he would not get any. Somewhere, an idea came up, an idea of what he should be doing right now. It had been a long time since he remembered something new, and he still found it quite a disconcerting sensation, that brought back feelings of when he first 'arrived' in Pelican Town, or rather, right outside of it.

  
The heavy front door opened with a gesture of his hand, and he stepped outside, darkness, stars and silence greeting him. His solar essence crystal dimly illuminated the copper door handle as he closed the door behind him. He lifted the hand, closed his eyes, and snapped his fingers.  
Despite the calm of night blanketing everything, a distinct sense of wonder was in the air, a feeling of enthusiasm, that kind of energy. The spirits were delighted about... something. They were congregating at an area just outside of town - wait, was that not quite nearby?  
His allseeing eyes fell upon blonde curls, tanned skin, amber eyes, and a sea of Junimo, so enthusiastic that they were not even properly masking their presence. As he saw her, she turned back and looked up and he almost thought that she also saw him. Rasmodius closed his eyes, hastily severing the connection and stood up to stand at the fireplace.

  
Something inside him stirred. It seemed that he had a letter to write.


	2. Brew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given an important task, Rasmodius is forced to use his cauldron for the first time.  
> Anne receives a bizarre letter.  
> And both receive bizarre dreams.

Even after having lived here for a few weeks now, she did not quite sleep well yet. She would awake sweating, confused, if she was not woken by the whistling air drafting through her cozy, but very old, cabin. Maybe she should take Robin up on some business soon. Nevertheless, it was morning and a farmer needed to wake up early. Blushing slightly at calling herself a farmer now, it was way too early for that and she only had grown a few crops of terrible quality, she turned and swung her legs out of bed, stretched out. A stray Junimo that had refused to go back home squeaked as it had been resting right on that spot on the floor, and Anne stifed a chuckle as she leaned down. 

  
"Good morning, Apple." she greeted. Apple tilted its head. It did not recognize this as a name, but the friendly tone made it bob up and down happily before it disappeared under the bed.  
Anne had taken to wearing overalls quite quickly, and she didn't bother tying back her middle-length waves today. After precociously balancing on one leg to get on a particularly stubborn rubber boot, she headed outside.

  
It still wasn't quite light yet - but the mailman here woke early. She had never seen this person, and almost began to wonder if her mail was being delivered by some kind of messenger pigeon, laughing at the idea internally. The rusty mailbox sqeaked as she opened it to peer inside. A roll of parchment lay there, tied with a purple ribbon. She raised her eyebrows and reached inside, gingerly lifting it out. Not en envelope. Was she featuring in a period drama? 

  
The morning breeze made her catch the whiff of woodsy scent coming from the paper as she unrolled it. She read the carefully penned cursive. And again. And frowned. 

  
"What?"

* * *

  
Rasmodius caught the circles under his eyes in the one mirror he owned, mostly for wizardry reasons, he told himself. He looked rather miserable, so he looked away, continuing to pace with a heavy tome weighing heavily on his hands. After he wrote the message to the farmer, the Junimo had called upon him, emerging from the spell circle carved into his floor. They were always hard to understand in their abundant excitement, but they had pointed him towards a tome that had long been untouched in his library. And, with some confusion from his side, conveyed that he had to get to work, for the farmer. So she could communicate with them. Properly.

  
Unfortunately for him, this meant that the eerie feeling he had had earlier when regarding his cauldron had meant something - and that he would indeed have to learn how to brew a potion. Not just that, he would have to test it. This made sense of course, but the ingredients were rather... psychedelic, according to the myriad of warnings handwritten next to them. 

"Who wrote that...?" he wondered quietly as his fingers passed over the ink. As he pondered this, his focus slipped for a moment and his irises flooded with color, a deep blue illuminating the pages slightly. He started at that and snapped the book shut, eyes returning to grey.

  
His first attempt had been disastrous, leaving him lying on the floorboards, only able to stare at the ceiling with a medically induced obnoxious focus on the lines on the old wood. A focus on wood did not quite mean 'understand the forest spirits', though, so he deemed it a failure. He should have known, seeing that the liquid bubbling in the cauldron wasn't green, but red.  
His second attempt was better. Luckily, he had time, as the farmer had not shown up the day after the letter, nor the week. He was wondering if she would show up at all, but he decided not to linger on that thought too long - the Junimo could be rather convincing if they needed to.

  
On his third attempt, he succeeded, but not quite in the way he expected.

He sat down in a red armchair at the fire, swishing the green fluid around as if it were a fine wine. It was almost opaque, but the flames licking up the fireplace illuminated it, and it was almost sparkling. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he had a good feeling that he finally had figured out the recipe. And that was exactly why he was so suspicious of it. He sat up straight. 

"No use putting it off." he said, definitely not to convince himself, and threw the glass back in one go.   
And he was gone.

* * *

  
"!!!!... !..." the Junimo twirled around her legs, tugging at the cuff of her jeans. She hated to get irate with them, as they were rather cute, but she really had to put the chickens to bed. She did not know what they wanted. She had gone back to try to read the plaque, but had found it no easier to understand. Her mind was tugged back towards the roll of parchment sitting upon her table. That must have been the strangest letter she had received, and definitely incredibly suspicious.

  
_To whom it may concern,_

  
_I have received notice that you may have contacted the supernatural._  
 _If you wish to achieve further understanding with the forest spirits, I_ _am in possession of a brew that may aid you._  
 _Please come visit me in my tower, West of the Cindersap Forest._

  
_M. Rasmodius (Wizard)_

  
"The supernatural? A ' _brew_ '? **Wizard**?" She shook her head again in disbelief. Now, she was aware that she had been experiencing some things that could be classified as supernatural. But she was definitely not convinced that it was just her imagination conveniently conjuring up cute creatures to motivate her impulsive decision to move here. It was a bit strange that she couldn't understand mysterious plaques that her own brain came up with, but what's life without a little mystery?

  
She couldn't understand why she just hadn't thrown the letter away. When she almost did it, the first time, she stopped herself even before the little Junimo, Apple, could. He had regarded her with the saddest teary beady eyes, trying to convey something she could not understand.

  
She had seen the tower before. It stood tall, moss growing through polished bricks. She definitely felt something on that side of the forest, some tug at her, and because of that she really tried to stay away. This was a bit harder now that she literally had been invited there.

Sighing, she locked the door for the night. Her newly acquired cat, a heavy-set tuxuedo, had already settled at the foot of her bed, definitely planning to paw at her feet and keeping her awake. Slipping into flannel pajamas after brushing her teeth, she settled under heavy, comforting sheets. Although she usually had trouble sleeping, even after the herbal tea Emily had her drink, today it seemed easier, and she found herself slipping away as she watched colours dance behind her eyelids.

Suddenly, she was in a forest. Not a forest that she recognized - but it was beautiful. It was the golden hour, and the sun's rays made the moving leaves cast dancing shadows on the mossy ground. The air was clean, and glowy orbs danced through the air, seemingly riding on some kind of breeze. She let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding in. She wished to go deeper into the forest, but when she tried, she was stopped abrubtly, the air in front of her rippling as if she had been a drop of water hitting a vast body of water. The ripple spread, out of view, uncovering a large barrier of sorts. 

"No way to go there, then" she sighed, resting her hand on the barrier. It was warm, and comforting, somehow. Turning around, she glanced the other way. It seemed that she could head onto a clearing, so she did. Tall grass began to overtake the moss as she exited the forest, and the sound of rustling leaves faded some. She arrived on a field, golden wheat swaying in the wind gently. The breeze was more like a summer breeze than a spring one. 

In the distance, she saw something dark. Ever curious, she came closer.

She realised she was nearing a cliff, and a dark-haired man was standing near the edge, silently. He didn't turn around, even when she sat down a bit to the right to him. Somehow, she didn't know what to say to this dream figure, wondering if she even should say anything. Instead, for a few moments she regarded him. In this golden landscape, he stood out, but gracefully. Slender but built, pale hands with long fingers resting on the grass beside him. Grey eyes peering out at beyond the cliff, a face surrounded and obscured by deep violet, straight hair. Around his neck he wore a chain with a golden sun-like pendant on it, that seemed to pulse with the light of this golden hour they were in.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly. He seemed to not hear her for a moment, before blinking, turning towards her slightly. His steely gaze seemed to stare right through her.

"That's a good question." he pondered. "Especially when I do not even know where we are right now, what makes you believe that I have any answers?." he continued. Anne raised an eyebrow.

"Right." she said. "That's a weird answer.." she huffed. They both turned to stare out into the distance. A blue sea started at the bottom of the cliff, but in the distance, deep gray clouds were collecting into a storm. Anne opted to try again. "Do you think a storm is coming?" she asked. He frowned, his gaze hazy now. 

"Unfortunately, it seems so." he said. "Although I do not think it matters much, as we are likely in some kind of hallucination."

Anne scoffed. "I think I would recognize a dream." she said. She felt as if she had been here forever, and known this place forever. When she turned to him, he seemed annoyed at her denial. Turning away from her, he sighed, eyelids lowering somewhat as he glanced downwards at the waves. His dark eyelashes were long, and a stark contrast with his pale skin. 

He gracefully rose to his feet, tall figure towering over her. 

"I must go. It seems I have more work to do." he said, almost more to himself than to her, but a short nod her direction at least made her feel somewhat acknowledged.   
"

Alright, Mr. Dream Vampire." she couldn't help the rude goodbye exiting her lips. His eyes widened for a second, before looking somewhat insulted. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and a great wind shook the valley, before she woke in her bed, awash in sweat.

* * *

  
The wizard groggily opened his eyes. Morning light shone through the window. It seemed that he at least had slept somewhat. 

  
"..?" a questioning noise left his dry mouth as he noticed the empty glass on the ground, luckily not broken. A few drops of green liquid remained. He recalled drinking it, and then, a long sea of nothing. But as he woke slowly, he felt better than he had in a long while. Standing up and stretching his long limbs, he neared his quietly bubbling cauldron, before killing the fire heating it with a gentle wave of his hand, his eyes glowing blue to borrow the air humidity to form water. With a gentle splash, the fire died, and the potion was done. Feeling somewhat content with this achievement, he decided to do his morning area survey early, and opened his door without looking at it with a another hand gesture, as he reached for his cloak.

  
Anne rubbed the back of her head awkwardly as she suddenly stood in an open doorway, the man obviously not noticing her immediately.

She had woken that morning with an intense sense of urgency, despite the dreamless deep sleep she remembered. That morning, she had found several Junimo pushing that darned parchment towards her again. _Message clear_ , she had thought to herself, before sighing, quickly doing the essential morning tasks and heading into the forest.

  
"Going to vizit a Wizard." she mumbled to herself. She had asked Abigail before if she knew a Wizard, and all she had done was laugh, saying she had heard of the weirdo calling himself that. She had never seen him. Others had seen a hunched figure in a cloak. Emily was estatic even considering the idea of a wizard, but also had not seen him. Really, the mental image of the letter sender was quickly becoming a creepy old man with roleplaying fantasies.

  
But now, standing here, she watched this elegant man lift up his cloak gingerly, a long layer of hair tied in the crook of his neck. She saw a flash of his ear peek through many shorter layers in the front that were almost comedically messy and voluminous, and a golden ring shone in the morning light.   
"Um..." she started, feeling intrusive even though he had invited her. He startled, snapping towards the doorway, grey eyes meeting hers for a moment before he straighened up. She noted that he did not look like her mental image at all. Didn't Wizards at least have beards? He did, however, have a cloak. Then, unexpectedly, he made a small bow. 

"Welcome, new farmer." he said, his tone apologetic. "You seem to have caught me on my way out."

"Oh, uh, I can come back later if that's better - " she started, but he shook his head, face still expressionless. 

"No. We have important matters to discuss. Other matters can wait". His tone was final. Anne nodded slowly.

He lightly threw his cloak up into the air, where it floated down onto a hook near the door, which she stared at a bit too long, wondering if that even made sense in terms of physics, but did not have enough time to properly consider this. He gestured for her to follow, and she followed his surprisingly heavy footsteps deeper into the room. His ponytail swished over his back as he walked, almost hitting the belt of his pants. Anne was immediately intrigued by this stranger, although she had come with suspicion, and still held on to part of that, at least out of common sense. Out of all the unique-looking and feeling inhabitants of the valley, he was definitely the most eccentric, up until now.  
He sat her on the other side of a table, where he took a familiar-looking roll of parchment, this one tied with a green ribbon. Untying it gingerly, he handed it to her.

"Is this familiar to you?" he questioned, tapping a green, terribly drawn, Junimo, drawn on the curved parchment. Anne had to internalize a laugh at the childlike quality of the drawing, but he was dead serious and she did not dare laugh. Her lip curled a bit though. He stared her down, eyes narrowing a bit. "Well?"

"Well, yes. I've seen these little ones" she said, a warm smile curving her lips. "They've made me feel very welcome."  
As he watched her gentle expression, and felt his own tension soften somewhat. He was so used to the spirits that he didn't even consider their friendly appearance and tendencies anymore.

"They are quite friendly, yes..." he considered, leaning on his hand. She raised her eyebrows slightly at the visible relaxation. "I called you here because they requested something of me." he continued. She nodded eagerly, before freezing.

"Wait. I haven't been imaging these things?" she said incredulously. Rasmodius froze up a bit. A memory of Pelican Town villagers laughing him out of the Saloon came up, almost making him flush a bit. He needed to keep his composure, as this was bigger than him and his ego alone.

"No. They are forest spirits, specifically here to keep all energies in balance. And that balance has been off, lately, it seems." he muttered. His eyes darkened a bit. "And they request your assistance."  
Her thumb stroked the parchment, and she pondered for a moment. The same woodsy scent that she had opening the initial letter surrounded her here. Her intuition was not flagging any danger, but all of this seemed way to unbelievable to be true.

"How do I help them?" she asked warily. He glanced towards the right, where an almost comically large cauldron stood. She narrowed her eyes. "Please don't tell me..."  
He smiled wryly. "It's a bit of a ritual for the Junimo. It helps you understand the forest, according to my literature studies." he explained.  
Abruptly, Anne stood. She was in a strange man's house, who asked her to literally drink a magic potion. Rubbing her temples, she ignored Rasmodius, who was rapping his fingers on the table as he awaited her answer. 

"Mr. Wizard, I hope you don't expect me to drink a green potion a stranger offers me." she said steelily, frowning. She took her pink jacket from the back of her chair. "I'll be leaving now."

The dark-haired man could not think of any words that would stop her - unfortunately what she said had made sense. As the door closed behind her, he rested his forehand on his head. The Junimo had been quite insistent on this, claiming that the future of this whole area was in jeopardy if Anne did not help. But he would need more time to think of a way to convince her.

As he sat, darkness cloaked the valley once again. Finding himself unable to sleep, he glanced towards the cauldron. Taking a small glass, he dipped it, filling it to the brim. He didn't bother locking the door, he did not have visitors anyway, and headed to his bedroom deeper in the tower, where he downed the glass' contents, hoping that the resulting good sleep would bring inspiration to solve this predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, again! And thanks for the kudos up until now, really made my day ; w;  
> This will probably (and unfortunately for me, since I'm not patient, but Ras and Anne deserve proper character development) be a slow burn, but I aim to make it worth your while.


	3. Dream

Anne stared at the ceiling. It had been a confusing day - and a large part of her just wanted to forget and continue her attempt at a regular rural life. But the squeaking creature under her bed seemed to think otherwise, so did the so-called wizard living in his tower at the edge of town. Just listening to her own thoughts sounded ridiculous. Huffing, she closed her eyes, slowly drifting away into some kind of slumber.

She stared up at the blue sky, an odd feeling of deja vu striking her, even though she had always been here, in her mind. The familiar woods, the familiar field, the familiar dream vampire.

"Mr. Vampire, I see you're still the same as ever" she smiled, only being graced with a scoff-like noise, as he did not even turn to her.

"Dream farmer, I don't think it's productive for us to converse. The mundane do not tend to remember dreams. Unfortunately, I happen to be one of them." he said, staring out over the ocean as before. Something bothered him about what he felt when looking at the dark clouds. Every now and then, lightning sparked through them, highlighting an almost web-like network that faded into the sky after a few seconds. Anne rolled her eyes, before sitting next to him.

"How can it be a dream if we always have been here?" she asked. He turned to her, giving her a pointed stare before looking away again. Honestly, he had to agree with her. Sparks lit on his fingertips as he absentmindedly mumbled the arcane language. Rasmodius kept finding himself in this place, on the verge of remembering something, but making no progress at all. He just kept waking up here, with no memory of any other place.

"Who are you?" she asked after a long siilence. She wasn't looking at him, amber eyes joining him in observing the sky. Behind them, wheat rustled from an invisible breeze. He took a moment, breathed a long sigh, and then smiled a wry smile.

"I've been told my name is Rasmodius." he answered, leaning back on his elbows. He guessed he could indulge this dream-created figure. Perhaps he was asking himself these questions, he figured. She raised her eyebrows.

"That's a strange name" she considered. He frowned slightly.

"One doesn't generally choose their name" he retorted quietly.

She nodded. "I'm Anne." He didn't ask, and he somehow already knew, but that was okay.

"Why do you think we're here?" she continued.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"I have a lot more where that came from, just wait until they get personal" she said, grinning. The glare he gave her was rather unconvincing, in her eyes.

"Me, I do not know. As for you... I think you are here as a figment of my consciousness, to make me reflect on my mistakes." he mumbled, looking down at his hand. He twiddled a broken peace of grass between his index and thumb. "For my sanity's sake, I hope you do not succeed." He let the grass float down towards the sea, where it was picked up by the wind.

"Excuse me? I have better things to do, like figure out how to get through that wall!" she scowled. Getting to her feet, she turned from him. Looked as if she wanted to say something more, he noted, but she left. With another long sigh he continued his watch of the sky.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, she refocused on her farm and on the town. Actually taking time to socialise, visit the Saloon. Playing pool with Abigail, Sam and Sebastian, who actually reminded her somewhat of the wizard, but not as weird. He didn't even seem insulted when she told him this, rather seemed to become somewhat excited as he played a Wizard in the tabletop games he liked so much. The crops grew. The Junimo backed off somewhat. Something was gnawing at her head constantly, the most when she woke in the morning and right before she fell asleep. 

* * *

"Favorite color?" Anne asked. Rasmodius ignored her.

"Come on, something? We live here, how can you not be bored to death."

"I have enough to think about." he responded, frowning. How was he going to solve any of this mystery with her bothering him? How was she not concerned about them being trapped in whatever this dimension was? She fell into a dejected silence for a bit. "Yellow." he mouthed. She suppressed her excitement and attempted a standoffish nod like he did. It was not very convincing, but he decided not to comment on it.

"Mine is pink."

He allowed himself a small smile. Were they really doing small talk? Was he doing small talk with his own consciousness? His current hypothesis on the situation was null.

"Is Rasmodius your first name?" she asked. He froze for a moment.

"No." he started, waiting for the inevitable follow-up.

"What-"

"I don't know my first name." His voice sounded distant, his gaze far. She wasn't sure how to respond.

"I'm - I'm sorry." she apologised quietly. Rasmodius regarded her tiredly, met big amber eyes looking up at him. For a moment, he thought he felt guilty for making her make that expression.

"Don't be" he sighed. His hand came up to touch to the sun-shaped crystal resting against the black tunic covering his sternum. Anne was reluctant to look at his expression, sure she had pushed too far. She watched as his dark irises flooded with color, shifting between multiple before settling on a deep blue, eyes half-lidded. They didn't speak, until the sun set and that world ended.. That morning, she woke with tears in her eyes, but didn't know why.

* * *

Somehow, she found herself trudging up the stone steps again, the tower towering intimidatingly over her from this perspective. The only conclusion she could come to was that she had to come here again, something was pulling her here. She reasoned that it had been the darned tiny creatures always trying to direct her here. Or that she found all the good forage right here at the bottom of the stairs, which was likely also due to the small creatures. Sigh. She knocked on the heavy door once, then louder, as the sound didn't seem to carry far. After waiting what seemed to be eons, and considering turning around, as this had been a bad idea in the first place, the door opened with an ominous creak. Dark eyes peered down at her, and he blinked twice before realising who his visitor was.

"Ah!" he made a surprised noise, his expression surprised for a moment as he was caught off guard. "Anne?"

She was taken aback - somehow it felt odd when he said her name. "Rasmodius." she nodded. His name, however, did not feel strange in her mouth. Odd. "Uh, well - I'm not here to drink the green potion." she started. He just gave her a blank look. "But - I'd like to come in and ask you some questions, is that alright?". She stared at him intently, not seeming like she would give up easily.

If she was not going to continue her path of assisting the Junimo, he had no business with her, he thought. But before he realised, words were tumbling from his mouth.

"As you wish. Just.. don't touch anything." he gave in, stepping aside to let her enter. As she brushed past him, he caught a whiff of vanilla. He wasn't sure what to do with that observation, or why he even had it. Perhaps he had been far from other people for too long.

Not sure what to do, he returned to his table, trying to refocus on his report. He had stored the leftover potion in the cellar, and the cauldron had been shoved to the side. Currently, he was trying to clarify what exactly the Junimo were so troubled about, but unfortunately for him, they were not very willing to let him help. Chair legs creaked as she climbed into the chair opposite of him. He set down his quill.

"Have you made any headway with the forest spirits?" she started. He raised his eyebrows. He wanted to retort with something akin to that being a question he should be asking.

"No, unfortunately not." he said instead, opting to not immediately antagonise her. "They are rather.. set in their ways, and thus stubborn.". He tapped his fingers against the table in thought. Anne was really wondering why she came here, now. He was being kind in not asking her about the potion again, but she had come anyway.

"Uh-" she started. "Do you.. do you have any books on them?" The tapping stopped, and he gave her a look that could be curious. He pursed his lips slightly.

"I may." he said, cloak rustling as he rose from his chair elegantly. He gestured lightly for her to follow him. Cautiously, she followed him through another tall doorway and was immediately overtaken by the scent of old books and dust. Stifling a cough, her eyes tearing slightly, she felt her eyes widen at the bookshelves lining the back wall, floor to ceiling. She couldn't even find a book to focus her eyes on, so many were neatly lined up here.

He had shifted his focus, instead moving to a heavy wood desk covered in parchment and open books. He had recently been looking into the Junimo, perhaps there was something- _Why am I humoring her?_ shot through his mind, and he froze for a moment. _This aids the Junimo. Perhaps, when she learns more about them, she will understand_. he countered himself silently. It took him some effort to think of that retort. Anne trailed a tanned finger down the back of a book with golden inscribed letters. A thick coat of dust coated the tip, and she flicked it away, watching the gold glisten in the golden light of the old bulb lighting the room.. It was as if these had not been touched in years. She felt this to be rather unexpected for a wizard. A scholar, right? But seeing all this did ease her suspicion of him just a bit.

The sound of a book snapping shut shook her from her reverie. He brought the thematically green book over to her. It almost looked like a children's book - and the drawing on the front looked familiar to her, somehow. Did - did he draw this? A smile curled her lips and she tried to push it down, especially with his serious demeanor.

"This looks fragile..." she said, watching the crumbling pages. He hummed in confirmation. He hadn't thought of the prospect of his books, that would be hard to replace, being on a farm, where grime and dirt was the norm. He frowned slightly.

"If you wish..." he started, trailing off. "No, I would prefer if it stayed here." he said. She frowned slightly. She was about to hand it back to him, before his dark eyes met hers for a second. "You can borrow my study, while you read." he pondered. Her eyes widened.

"I might not finish it in one go" she admitted. At this, he couldn't suppress a smile. The book was over a thousand pages. Her eyes widened slightly at seeing that expression, and luckily he didn't notice.

"No, I expect not. Worry not. I spend a lot of time here, as long as you don't disturb my work you are.. welcome." he hesitated on the last part. Glancing at her, he grew flustered at the enthusiasm in her expression. A farmer with an arcane literature interest. Very odd. And somewhere, he realised that she was going to disturb his work, just because he never had company here, and it would be strange to him. But he couldn't find it in him to take the words back.

"Thank you, sir Wizard." she said. At the slight frown, she corrected herself with slight hesitation. "Rasmodius?" He took a long strand of his hair between his fingers unconsciously. Her eyes regarded the habit curiously.

"Preferably." he admitted. She grinned, eyes sparkling slightly.

"Alright then." she said. She turned and glanced at the back window, though which the red-tinged sky was visible. "I should go for now. I've already taken enough of your evening." she said, nodding to herself. She gingerly handed the book back to him, which he set upon his desk with equal care.

Once she had left, he found himself staring at the sky wordlessly, processing what had just happened. But... he guessed he would be having a visitor soon.


	4. Habits

Over the next few weeks, Anne learned several things about Rasmodius.

First of all - he did. not. stop. working. Ever. Starting from the first time she came to read, nervous - it was as if he had barely noticed her. Did he even sleep? 

But she was here to figure out this Junimo problem without poisoning herself, at least that had been her plan, so she set to work on that.

In between maintaining the farm, doing her daily rounds in town and visiting the Saloon on Friday's, she was surprised that she could still manage to drop in twice a week or so. Slowly the walk through the Cindersap forest was becoming familiar. As she glanced up at the crowns of the trees, light filtering through, a feeling of deja vu overcame her. She stopped, watching shadows dance on the forest floor. This feeling was becoming more and more common over time, and she wondered if she should ask Dr. Harvey about if it could be a medical issue.

The book on the Junimo was unfortunately simple. Unfortunately because it did not contain much she did not know yet. Nothing about the runes, even though she imagined there had to be some kind of cipher. Even in the book, the letters blurred together, as if even the authors had had trouble with visualising what they looked like. So, without asking, she moved on to other, long forgotten, books in Rasmodius' library.

She indulged her curiosity. She dusted off books about creatures she had spied in the mines, although they looked quite less intimidating on old paper than in reality. Books on seemingly random subjects, from the history of the Gotaro empire, to botany textbooks describing the trees in the Cindersap Forest in almost excruciating detail. Every time she visited, she read something new, all the while wondering what exactly drew her here. She still avoided the books about actual magic, the arcane language, and the like - as if even touching those would bind her to some kind of contract. She felt the urge to read them, but felt an even stronger urge to keep away from them.  
  


* * *

This never-changing world maybe might start boring her, she began to think. Sitting alone at the edge of it, the always turbulent sea reflected the night sky. She had been here many times since she last was here together with the dark-haired man, but he had not returned in a long time.  
She wondered about the ominously shimmering web in the sky, almost as if the thunderclouds formed a grotesque spider resting in it, waiting for some kind of prey. She felt as if she lacked understanding of the situation, but yet, she felt some kind of morbid fascination. She wanted to reach out and touch the silvery threads that only barely held on to existence.  
She had given up on the forest beyond the wall for now, ever since she saw a small green creature wave at her from beyond the boundary. Some realisation had settled on her, then, that she lacked the means to travel any further, unfortunately. What those means were, however, she was unsure of. 

* * *

Dark eyes stared up at the ceiling. It had been a while since Rasmodius had attempted to sleep in his bed, generally falling unconscious at his desk, or his table, or in his chair.

He had stopped drinking the potion. It was toying with his memory, he realised after the first few times. He could catch glimpses of a blue sky, of a voice - was that the Farmer's voice? Of all the moments to start remembering his dreams, this woud not have been the one he chose. He already found himself unexplicably startled when she came to his door - and to fulfill his duty as valley guardian, he would need to be focused.

But as 4 A.M. neared and he rolled over frustratedly, his eyes fell upon the small glass he had set there, just in case. And, in a haze of exhaustion, it was down his throat before he could think about it. His irises flared a faint green before his eyelids drooped and sleep finally took him as he exhaled in relief.

This time, he wasn't deposited on the edge of the cliff, but in the forest. It was dark - stars moving too quickly circled above him, and when he breathed, the air condensed into a turbulent fog. He just took a few moments to think. Now, here, he could remember the few conversations, the blue sky when it was still day. And the dream farmer. 

He found her sitting at the edge of the cliff, as he usually did. She seemed in some kind of trance, before the grass crunching under his boots jolted her back into awareness.

"Rasmodius?" she stared, looking up at his silhouette in the dark. He looked down at her, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

"You're still here." he answered quietly, redirecting his gaze back to the ocean. She sighed. 

"Always am, always have been." she answered, leaning back on her arms. It was strange - it was dark, the air was chilly, but no goosebumps rose on her bare arms. 

Rasmodius pondered this for a bit. He, here, was aware of the dream nature of this world. She, however, did not seem to be. Perhaps, as he had hypothesized earlier, she was part of his consciousness. He nodded at how much that made sense. She had been at the center of his current predicament, how strange would it be if it did - not - influence him mentally.

Anne knew she had harassed the poor man at their previous encounters. So, she felt compelled to stay silent. But as the quiet lingered, she realised that the resulting silence felt uncomfortable. She heard him sigh and, suddenly too anxious to look his way, she tensed up as he sat next to her.

"Are you... alright?" he asked hesitantly. When she turned, dark eyes were trained on hers. She flushed.

"I - I felt I talked at you too much when we last met." she admitted. "So I'm not going to do that anymore."

He blinked slowly, before he himself was taken off guard by a chuckle bubbling up his throat. She stared at him, dumbfounded.

"It is not like you to overthink matters, dream farmer." he said, a small smile remaining on his face. Anne felt her face become even redder as now it seemed like he was teasing her.

"That's just rude-" she gasped, frowning. But at that, she felt her body relax just a bit. She huffed. "Where have you been?" 

He pondered this question for a long time, and she felt annoyance bubble up until she saw the troubled expression on his features. He tapped his chin with his index finger.

Rasmodius felt like his memories of the waking world were slipping away, and even with focus he could not hold on. The awareness faded until reality itself felt like an unrealistic dream. His tapping stopped as he realised he did not know the answer to her question.

"I don't know..." he sighed. 

"That's a common answer to my questions, Rasmodius..." she sighed back. He shrugged, then felt compelled to lay back on the grass. It was comfortable yet cold against his clothed back.

"Unfortunately there's not much I can do about that." he answered, watching his breath condense in the air. The grass rustled as the blonde farmer followed his example. They watched the stars together.

"So... what do you remember?" she asked, hesitatingly. He felt that, somehow, this was an important question, to the point that he froze up. Anne felt the change in the air and sat up quickly, fidgeting with a grass blade. 

"... you" he muttered. Anne blinked. 

"What?"

"Somehow, I remember you." he said quietly.

With a jolt, Anne sat up straight in her bed, the afterimage of a starry night quickly fading from her memory, her heart thrumming in her chest. She clutched the fabric of her flanel pajamas, some kind of ache in her chest.

* * *

"Summer is coming soon" she mused. Today, she had decided to sit near the fireplace, which was, for some reason, always on. Perhaps because it was always cool in Rasmodius' tower. The dark-haired man made a sound of acknowledgement. She knew he wasn't much at small talk, but she didn't need a reply, she figured, as she watched his fingers drum on the desk quietly.

"Did.. you notice anything strange lately?" he asked, as he continued tapping. His face seemed perpetually stuck in a frown lately. 

Despite the discomfort at his discomfort, she thought hard on this question. But unfortunately, she had not noticed anything out of the ordinary - even though lately, everything had felt strange to her. She could not figure out if it had to do with her increased consciousness of the supernatural, or with what Rasmodius was aiming at.

"Aside from the strange creatures still following me home? No..." she shook her head. A slight expression of exasperation crossed over his face before he masked it away into neutrality. She pushed back the disappointment that she felt towards herself with difficulty. He expected more from her, and so did she.

His hair looked even messier than usual today, she did notice that. He caught her gaze with obsidian eyes and she looked away quickly, not after noticing the dark circles under them, standing out against his pale skin almost painfully. 

"Anne..." he started. He was torn. He really wanted - needed her to stand up and ally with the Junimos. But her resolute rejection early on had shook him, and drained the little confidence he already had. If he asked her again, would she be gone forever? He feared what would happen if the forest was left without a protector, a healer. He had wanted to be capable of that role, but the spirits had made it clear that that was - not - his role. Yet he tried in desperation. "... you should probably head home soon."

When the door clicked shut behind her, he grasped the solar essence crystal resting against his chest. Darkness had fallen again, and as he began to lose track of the days he had been outside, slowly, a cold sensation was seeping into his limbs. The crystal began to cool, and at the edges, darkness was seeping into the magical object. But what little energy he had, he did not spend on concern for this matter. His grip tightened slightly before he gathered the energy to drag himself to the couch at the fireplace, the flames warming him ever so slightly.


End file.
